Finally! Pelleas and Ettarde! :D you can't see it, but I'm doing a silly little dance of joy. For the record, this takes place DURING THE REIGN OF KING SONIC.

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Months had passed since the false king had instilled such terror in the people of Camelot. Little word of the incident had spread, but the king's kindness towards those who had suffered from the imposter's hand was quickly earning him the nickname of The Loving King. Tales of the kindness of his court wove their way across the country, and many were impressed and enticed by these new ideals of equality.

And so, a young armadillo from a distant town traveled to Camelot on foot, with nothing but his sword to bring him there safely. For three full weeks, he walked to the castle, and came to it, seeking an audience with the king.

"Your highness, I am Pelleas...I come to this kingdom seeking to become one of its knights...to uphold the justice of Camelot, which you have remade. I am of lowly birth, but I will gladly give what little I have to be one of your knights." Sonic thought for a moment, shifting about uncomfortably in his throne.

"Well, Pelleas...I'd need to know I wasn't giving you a job that's going to kill you...Tell you what, there's a tournament coming up in a few weeks. No knights allowed, only squires, pages, and amateur swordsmen. I was actually planning to scout some knights from the tournament...If you manage to win, you'll get a seat at the round table. Put a little name plate on it and everything."

"Oh, thank you, my liege!" He bowed deeply, then left, seeking lodgings. Finding a place to make his camp in town, he waited for the coming tournament. His excitement kept him up many nights, his dream of being a protector of the people coming soon. Born of poor parents, and distanced from the nobility, it was a dream that, until King Sonic came along, would never have come true.

As the days passed, more and more people came to see this contest of strength, rumors spreading that it was an attempt to increase the ranks of the round table, after Arthur's impostor had decimated their number. People came from near and far to see who may join the ranks of the greatest knights in the land. One in particular, a lady of incredible beauty, caught Pelleas' eyes, and moreover, his heart. So ill prepared for such beauty was he that he found himself struggling even to speak.

"M-m'lady...I...I am Pelleas..." He said, bowing to her lightly. She rolled her eyes in annoyance.

"I give my deepest apologies, but I've no money to spare on peasants."

"Oh, no, m'lady, I ask not for money...only for the way to win your heart."

"Mine is a heart no peasant could hope for, boy." She told him, annoyed.

"But I am not a peasant...I am a knight...or, rather, I shall be one soon. I will win this tournament, and join the round table." The woman smiled, her quick mind fast at work.

"Alright...Pelleas, was it? I've been told that a gold circlet is to be granted to the winner of this tournament. IF that is you, then when you win, you shall present me with the circlet, and you shall have my love." He smiled brightly, kissing her hand and thanking her.

"And until I have your love, may I have your name?"

"I am called Ettarde. I look forward to the prize, Pelleas. I shall see you at the tournament." She and her attendants left the young man on his own. He felt himself glowing with strength, fueled by love for this most beautiful of women. He burned with the desire to fight for her love, and, in time, had his chance.

The tournament began, and the moment his chance came to fight, he turned his back on his foe immediately. The foe struck his back, and his blade shattered.

Another battle began, and, having seen the first round, Pelleas' next opponent knew better than to strike him in the back. They dueled for a short while with swords drawn, before Pelleas' strength won the match. Only a few rounds remained, and then he would have his chance to show his love for the fair Ettarde.

At the semifinals, things became harder. For a full ten minutes, the fighters worked to the whole of their skill. Finally, in the last moments of battle, with a tiny chance of an opening before him, Pelleas swung, and disarmed his foe.

The final match, the final foe, the final chance for this young man to prove his love.

"You've both done great to make it this far. Whichever of you should win the finals will make a great addition to the round table. Now, let this contest come to a close with a great battle!" Sonic threw up his fist, signing the start of the fight, and the two swordsman charged eachother. It was an intense match, the sounds of steel filling the small arena for over an hour. They were weak, and weary, but Pelleas had the upper hand. Pelleas had something to drive him. Pelleas had love. With a cry of his love's name, he sprung forward, slashing at his foe's blade, both of them shattering. Still gripping his hilt, he sprung forth again, but his foe, tired and weak, fell to his knees.

"No more...I cannot fight any longer...I submit. You are the stronger." Cheers were heard throughout the stands as Sonic, Percival, Gawain, Lamorak, Galahad, Lancelot, Merlina, and Fabron approached Pelleas.

"Kneel." Sonic said, smiling, drawing Excalibur. He had been practicing this, and, though nervous, he knew the speech by heart. "Pelleas, you have fought well. By the power bestowed upon me by this sword, and by the authority of my kingship, I grant thee the right to do battle in my name, the rank of nobility, and the honor of knighthood." He gently laid the flat of his sword on each of the boy's shoulders.

"Rise, Sir Pelleas." And rise he did. He felt the cheers of the crowd fill him with pride.

"Thank you, My Liege..."

"Call me Sonic. Y'know, your sword broke out there... Luckily, we've got a better one for you. Fabron?" The blacksmith stepped forward, carrying a blade and a gold circlet, both crafted by his skilled hands.

"First, a blade befitting a knight." Sonic handed him the sword, which he humbly accepted. "Second, a prize fitting a champion." He gave the young knight the circlet, which he took with joy.

"I have someone I wish to present this circlet to, as a sign of my love, if I may?"

"Hey, my job's done. Spotlight's all yours." Sonic stepped back, asking Merlina if he'd managed to make a complete fool of himself, which she insisted he hadn't. Pelleas walked to the stands where Ettarde sat, and offered to her the circlet. She took it with love, not for the boy, but for the gold, and for the honor of being presented such a prize.

The day came to an end with a feast in Pelleas' honor, the lady Ettarde seated beside him, and the morning came with no sign of her presence. After receiving the king's permission, Pelleas set forth in search of the lady Ettarde, accompanied by a squire, the very combatant who he had faced in the finals, to assist him. After a few weeks, they found their way to Ettarde's own castle, and approached the gate. The guards stood between them and the closed entrance.

"Who goes there?"

"I am Pelleas. Is this the castle of the lady Ettarde?"

"It is." A guard replied.

"Go and tell the lady that her knight has come to seek her hand." One of the guards left the gate with this message, and returned, not with the lady, but with more guards. Without a word, they drew their swords, and attacked him. Easily defeating them, he asked why they fought against him.

"Our lady tells us to expel you from her land. She says that you are not welcome here."

"Take me to see her." Pelleas demanded.

"We must not..." The guards feared he would soon react angrily. They knew full well they stood no chance if he attacked again.

"Surely, she is a suspicious woman, to go to such lengths to test my love...very well then, I surrender to you. Take me to her as your captive." The guards, though confused by this request, did as he asked, binding him, and bringing him to her.

"Why is he here?" She asked, angrily.

"Well, he defeated us, but...then he surrendered, demanding to be taken captive. The code of chivalry states that when a knight surrenders, he MUST be taken captive..."

"Hello, m'lady..." Pelleas smiled at her, as she grew angry.

"Take him away! Throw him out of the castle!"

Once he was expelled, Pelleas and his squire made camp. The next morning, he asked again to see Ettarde. Again, she sent guards to get rid of him, and again he defeated them. Again, he was captured, simply for the chance to see her face, and again, he was thrown out of her castle. Over and over, this same day played out, for two weeks. Finally, Sir Gawain came upon this display.

"Sir Pelleas, you've been gone for some time. The king has begun to worry of your absence. He sent me to find you." Pelleas nodded, staring at the camp fire, and beckoned Gawain to sit with him.

"I cannot leave...not without her. She has my heart, but she will not see me." Gawain frowned, and put a hand on Pelleas' shoulder.

"Then I shall help you. I shall go to her, and tell her of how great a man you are, of how great a knight you are, that she will be unable to deny you any longer." Gawain stayed with Pelleas that night, and in the morning, he went to the gates of Ettarde's castle. Tales of Gawain's strength and courage were known far and wide, and so the lady bade him enter. As they spoke, the discussion drifted from Pelleas, to the new king, to Gawain, so brave and noble a knight, and yet still without a wife. She held herself tight to his body and kissed him.

Three days passed, and Pelleas grew worried and impatient. In the dead of knight, he snuck into the castle, seeking out Gawain, to hear of his progress. Finally, he found Gawain, in Ettarde's arms. In Ettarde's bed. He was scarcely angry. Rather, sadness filled his heart. Such dishonor should have been met with steel, but Pelleas could not bring himself to harm either of them. He laid the blade between the two of them, careful not to disturb their slumber, and returned to his tent.

"What's the matter, master?" the squire inquired.

"I have known love, and I have had it taken from me. All that I longed for will never be mine...there is nothing left for me in this world, and so, I wait for death." He entered his tent, and laid on his cot.

Morning came, and Gawain found the sword between him and Ettarde. He knew the blade. And he knew what had happened. Filled with shame, he sought Pelleas' forgiveness. He entered the tent quietly, and knelt in humility.

"I am sorry, Sir Pelleas...I could not resist her...I beg your forgiveness..."

"There is nothing to forgive, Sir Gawain...She has made her choice...I only wish that you bring her happiness." He would not move. He would only speak. He looked sickly, and refused the food his squire brought him. "Please...it is the request of a dying man." Gawain nodded, and solemnly returned to the castle. Another day passed, and Pelleas was growing sicker. The squire left for the woods, in search of some sort of remedy.

As he searched, he heard a young woman singing quietly. Following this voice to its source, he saw a beautiful young lady emerging from the shore of a stream, not wet at all.

"M'lady, please, I am at my wit's end...you must help me!"

"What seems to be the trouble?" She asked, looking worried.

"It is my master..." He told her the tale of Sir Pelleas' unrequited love, and she wept.

"So loyal and kind a man...Take me to him. I will help you." The squire thanked her, taking her to the tent. She bade him wait outside, and entered the tent. Pelleas looked worse than ever. He had neither slept nor eaten since seeing his love and his comrade in bed together.

"Who...who are you?" He asked, weakly. "Are you the angel of mercy, come to take me from this world?"

"No...I am Nimue...and I have come to mend your shattered will..." She kissed him on the forehead gently, a hand on his cheek. "Sleep...When morning comes, you will be well again..." She left the tent, and began to head back to her stream, to return to the waters.

"M'lady..." The squire called to her, "what of my master?"

"He will be well...It is a shame about his trust being broken, but all will be well...I saw something in his eyes, as I'm sure he saw in mine...though a boy as himself may not know what it was..." Morning came, and Pelleas stood. He ate, and spoke, and laughed. The squire thanked the lady silently for this miracle, not realizing that she was returning to their camp. She approached, and Pelleas knelt before her.

"My lady, how can I ever repay you for what you have done for me?" She helped him back to his feet, and took his hand in hers, staring into his eyes.

"You are a wonderful man, Sir Pelleas...the tale your squire has told of your devotion to love has stirred my heart...I do not seek to be repaid with anything but your company..." Pelleas began to blush, staring back into her eyes. This may have been some fae magic, but he knew that the love he felt now was far greater than any he knew for the lady Ettarde. He kissed Nimue gently, as his squire struck camp, and together, the three of them returned to Camelot.

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I love that story. The good guy gets everything he wanted, but not where he thought it would come from. Several variations on the ending exist, so I think I'll leave this open to interpretation, at least in the case of what happens to Ettarde. Also, while they supposedly marry at the end of this story, I don't think I'm gonna do that yet in my story. Yes, people married younger back then, but Pelleas is still inexperienced. However, this does mean we'll be seeing more of the lady of the lake probably. After all, her boyfriend lives at the castle. :P